


All Was Well

by Katsala



Series: A Boy Named Danny Moony [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Turned Into a Ghost, Gen, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Harry Potter was Raised by Remus Lupin, Kidnapping, Traumatized Young Adults Doing The Best They Can, for a good cause of course, harry Potter was raised by Dorcas Meadowes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-02 01:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12717063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katsala/pseuds/Katsala
Summary: If given a chance, Remus would never have let Harry be taken away. Dorcas is all about making your own chances.





	1. Chapter 1

Nobody, Remus supposes, could ever tell Dorcas Meadowes what to do. He hadn’t seen much of her before they’d joined the Order, since they were in different Houses and years at Hogwarts, but he did vividly remember one incident in the Great Hall during the Halloween Feast when Professor Slughorn has tried to get her to control her language, and in response she had begun repeatedly screaming “PISS” at the top of her lungs for a good three minutes before someone cast a Silencing charm on her.

So in a way, it almost makes sense that Death itself wouldn’t be able to tell her what to do either.

The ghostly form of Dorcas hanging in front of him scoffs and crosses her arms. “Well? Are you going to say anything at all? Or did I come all this way just for silence, huh?” Remus can feel the cold air wafting off of her pure-white form.

“It would serve you right,” Remus manages to say, forcing down the lump in his throat as her tries not to think about the horrible tableau that led to this moment; a lifeless Dorcas laying in front of Gringotts, her clothes and hair singed from spell-fire but otherwise looking perfectly healthy- the sign of the Killing Curse- with the Dark Mark floating above in the sky. Witnesses would say Voldemort himself had struck her down. 

Dorcas rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t you start with that death-is-the-next-great-adventure blabber, I’ve already heard it from Dumbledore. And I’ll have you know-“

“Wait,” Remus interrupts her. “You died two months ago. Where the bloody hell have you been?”

“Well I spent like two week following Dumbledore around. And then it took me a few days to find you, and honestly that whole process was awful because you went off to sulk in a cabin. In the middle of the woods. In IRELAND! And you’re SQUATTING!” She finishes, gesturing to their surroundings.

Remus tactfully ignores that little sentiment, both because he’s not sulking and to avoid thinking about what he isn’t sulking about. “And the rest of the time?”

Dorcas mutters something irritably under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Icudntfigrowtowtamuv.”

Remus raises an eyebrow. “You’ll have to repeat that, Dory dear.”

“I couldn’t figure out how to move!” She throws her hands up in the air. “My legs kept going through the ground when I tried to walk! Stop laughing!” She takes a second, more considering look at Remus, who had doubled over in laughter and sounded equitable to a yowling cat. “No, seriously, stop laughing. You’re wigging me out, are you okay?”

“No. No, I’m not okay. Lily and James are dead, Dorcas. Peter is dead, and Sirius is-“ and then the laughing turns to hands shaking and holding back tears and- “and Harry is gone.”

“Okay, that last part? That’s where I’m a genius. I have the best solution ever to that last part. We’re gonna kidnap him.”

Remus boggles at her. “We don’t even know where he is, Dorcas!”

“Uh, you don’t,” she says mockingly. “I, on the other hand, know literally everything. Also I followed Dumbledore around for two weeks. Anything I didn’t see for myself I got him to tell me by singing inappropriate songs all night. He’s at his aunt’s house.” Dorcas’ gaze goes shifty. “But, uh, there is kind of a little hitch with my otherwise brilliant plan, so I will need to know what blood type you are.”

 

* * *

 

 

Remus maintains that the plan is stupid as they drive all the way to the Irish coast, then all the way through the ferry ride to England, then all the way through the drive to Little Whinging, Surrey. He maintains that it’s stupid as they break into a hospital to get their hands on Petunia Dursley’s medical records (she’s O negative) and then almost get caught, leading to Remus pretending to be a dead body and Dorcas “pretending” to be a ghost, and he maintains that it’s stupid as they break into Number 4 Privet Drive, the most disgustingly boring, cookie-cutter house he’s ever seen. He maintains that their plan is stupid right up until they find the crib in the cupboard under the stairs. Harry wakes up when the door opens and, when he sees Remus, he says, “Moo’y!”, his tiny legs kicking happily.

After that he gleefully Stuns the Dursleys, jabs the needle into Petunia’s arm a little more forcefully than he needs to. He reminds himself to be careful as he injects her blood into his veins.

Then he punches Vernon Dursley in the nose, unstuns them, and drives off into the sunrise with Harry and Dorcas in the back of the brand new Mark II Vauxhall Cavalier they found in the garage, complete with carseat for the baby, leaving the Dursleys with the compact car they “borrowed” on their way out of Ireland and a handwritten note that says in Remus’ best cursive, ‘Do not follow us. Do not contact the police. You will die. Happy Christmas.’

All was well.

 

* * *

 

 

The first problem to tackle is money, seeing as Remus doesn’t actually have any, and they need to purchase things such as gas and baby food. And nappies. Very many nappies. Luckily, Dorcas’ family was loaded, as were the McKinnons, and Dorcas knows where their vault key is. Raiding the Potter’s finances, on the other hand, is much more risky. It’s too high-profile, at least right now with the rescuing/kidnapping/rescuing so fresh. Remus suggests they leave it alone until an emergency comes up, when hopefully everyone- including Dumbledore- isn’t paying any attention.

Actually getting to Gringotts to acquire their funds is another problem, for two reasons. The first is Harry. The scar is, to put it mildly, a bit conspicuous. That’s easily solved by using the money they do have, which they absolutely-did-not-under-any-circumstances steal from the Dursleys, and buying him a baby’s beanie to cover his forehead. Unfortunately, the shop they visit is out of stock for everything but pink ones. And then Dorcas insists on a pair of pink overalls as well, and… to be fair, they are really cute. They’ve got a little ducky on the ankle. He buys those too.

The second reason is Dorcas. The entire time Remus is looking for a parking spot, which is a considerable amount of time, she’s staring out the window, pretending to actually sit in her seat, clicking her tongue and shaking her leg. When he does park and starts to get out of the car, she starts to make a low whining noise in the back of her throat.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks, settling back into the driver’s seat and turning the radio off.

Dorcas purses her lips. “We- we don’t really need to go to Gringotts, right?”

Remus turns around and boggles at her. “Kind of, yeah, if we ever want to afford, for example, food. Though I suppose that’s not a problem for you.”

Dorcas flinches. “That was rude,” she says flippantly, her shoulders tensing up.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from Dorcas Meadowes.”

“That’s rich coming from Remus Lupin,” she sings back nastily.

“Don’t you turn this around on me, you’re the one being unreasonable all of a sudden! This whole damn thing was your idea in the first place!”

“Shut up!” She screams at him, and Harry starts crying.

They both freeze. Their eyes meet, and for one second, two seconds, three, neither moves.

Remus slides into the backseat with minimal flailing. He unbuckled Harry from his car seat, draws him into his arms and starts bouncing him up and down. Dorcas floats up to the front seat so her aura of cold won’t bother him. Remus ignores her in favor of making cooing noises and trying to remember the words to the ridiculous, twenty-minute-long lullaby Lily and James composed during labour. He gets about halfway through the song before Harry stops crying, and he finally hears the sniffles coming from the front of the car.

Dorcas is floating in midair, legs curled up to her chest. Her hands are over her face and her shoulders shudder and heave as she cries.

Remus sighs. He shoulders Harry and reaches out a hand to brush against her cold, intangible form. It goes right through, but she looks up regardless. “Sorry,” she mutters, shaking her head, silvery tears dripping down her face. “Sorry. I’m fine.”

“None of us are fine, Dorcas.”

She gives a flat laugh. “Understatement of the year.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Yes.” She sighs, swipes the tears off her cheeks. “I- Remus, I’m twenty-three years old. And I died. I died in the street, in front of that stupid, fucking bank, and nobody did anything. Nobody even tried. It was just me, and I died on my feet the way I thought I always wanted to, the way I always said I wanted to and it…” she covers her face again. “I couldn’t even die like I was supposed to. I was terrified. And I can’t go back there, I can’t- I can’t look at where I died, I just can’t-“

Remus swallows hard. He reaches out again and brushes through her wispy white hair. “I’m sorry, Dory. I’m really sorry.”

She smiles, but the corners of her mouth continue twitching downwards despite her best efforts. “Thanks, Moony.”

“Do you want to wait in the car?”

She rolls her eyes. “Why didn’t I think of that in the first place?” She mumbles. “That was a stupid argument we just had. It was actually really, really dumb.”

“Yeah.” Remus holds Harry tighter and rests his head against the window. “Can’t exactly blame us, though. Tensions are a bit high, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Just a bit, yeah.”

Then silence lapses. They stay that way, all three of them sitting in the car, almost motionless, time becoming irrelevant. Remus wonders if he’ll ever be able to move.

And then Harry starts crying again, and there’s one hell of a smell coming off of him and his nappie seems suspiciously warmer than it did a moment ago. Remus sighs, Dorcas groans, Harry continues crying, and Remus is forced to get up and dig through the boot of the car for the nappy bag. Remus was pretty sure there was a metaphor for his entire life somewhere in there. 


	2. Chapter 2

  
When the three of them show up at Mad-Eye Moody’s house, Remus is convinced they’re going to get hexed before Dorcas makes a rude hand gesture and says, “The password is Swordfish. Capital S.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “You Slytherins and your secret codes.” He hefts the baby higher up on his hip and adjusts the nappy bag. “Can we come in?”

Moody sighs, puts his wand away and grabs hold of Remus’ arm to drag him inside. He does the same to Dorcas, who follows even though his fingers go through her.

“So, you’ve kidnapped the Potter boy, have you?” Moody says gruffly, taking a swig from his hip flask. Dorcas and Remus exchange a look and Moody laughs. “Kingsley owes me a Galleon now, though I imagine you won’t want him informed about this. I figured Lupin would break if pressure was applied. That’d be you, my dear,” he adds, gesturing to Dorcas. “Now, how is little Harry?”

“Danny!” Harry says excitedly.

“Good job, buddy!” Remus coos.

Dorcas chuckles embarrassedly. “We, uh, we retrained him on the car ride over. Danny Moony, that’s what we’re gonna call him.”

“Smart, that. Got a ring to it as well. And I suppose you’re here for… money? Resources to get you off the grid and the like?”

“Oh, we’ve got money covered,” Dorcas says with a flippant wave of her hand. “Actually, we needed a babysitter.”

“…what?”

 


End file.
